


Burn and Fade

by NeverSatisfiedGirl (Kalli_Ravenne)



Series: Love's Soldier [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mild Language, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10048553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalli_Ravenne/pseuds/NeverSatisfiedGirl
Summary: The dream is over, and recovery is a bitch. But is there still a friendship?





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, a bit of angst, a little fluff**
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> **Prompt:[Nicotine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkBxcmxWKAA) by Panic! At the Disco**
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> **A/N: Hello hello! This is kind of funny because it’s for both[@mrsbatesmotel53](https://tmblr.co/mkj3Stfpi2zjw6I9LCZQFwA) and her Motel Playlist Challenge, and [@iwantthedean](https://tmblr.co/myfVqUrW9N-kmjPJkYrHzlg)‘s YouAU Challenge (because the concept played so well into the little bit of mind-fuckery that takes place in this series). Just to clarify, this is part four of the Love’s Soldier series. Reading the first three definitely helps. I really hope you enjoy this one.**
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> **An extra special thanks to my beautiful[@chaos-and-the-calm67](https://tmblr.co/mg7JSFDVz1nQ-jG9E6-3eOw) for being my extra pair of eyes and one of my biggest cheerleaders. Thanks, love.  **

The drive back to the bunker was silent, save for the Alice Cooper tune playing quietly through the speakers. It was somber, sobering. At least during the times of consciousness I had, since I blacked out twice during the ride back.

After we made it to the MoL bunker, I'd been zapped to my room by Cas - angel powers don't really help physical exhaustion, unfortunately - and promptly put to a blessedly dreamless sleep. Except to use the bathroom or to shower, I didn't leave my room for almost a week. Dean brought food and attempted comfort and consolation, but… I shut down. It all hurt way too much, hurt until I got used to it and then became numb to it altogether. I used sleep to escape. 

As much as I tried not to think about what happened, I honestly didn't have the strength to fight back against my mind. It was on replay, in perfect HD clarity. 

The first several days, I could still feel him on my skin, feel the whispers and promises his lips left on my body. The ghostly traces of his strong hands on me burned into my memory. The soft declarations of love and desire echoed sometimes in the still of the night. 

I wanted to scream again. I wanted to cry. I wanted to rage at everything. 

I just didn't have it in me. Not now. 

I was under the djinn’s spell for two weeks. It was another two weeks before I spoke more than three words to anyone; naturally, I opened up to the one person in the bunker with firsthand experience that knew the turmoil in my head.

Dean said it was a miracle it didn't kill me sooner. He also said that it found me especially tasty for some other reason and sought to prolong my eventual death by feeding on me sparingly. Apparently, my unrequited longing for Sam attracted the djinn like “Bruce Bogtrotter to Mrs. Trunchbull’s chocolate cake.” 

(Not gonna lie, the _Matilda_ reference pulled a tiny smile from me. Kinda felt good.)

He didn't tell Sam about what he witnessed because, well, it wasn't his story to tell. “He's been asking about you though. He was, uh, pretty sure that it was his fault that you got taken so he hasn't been coming up to your room. He thinks you hate him.”

“I don't though, Dean. You know that.”

“And I told him, I swear. But you know how Sammy gets. He's gotta hear it from you.”

Yeah, easier said than done.

I wasn't gonna tell Dean that Sam staying away from me was a good thing seeing as I didn't know how to feel about him yet. So instead I asked: “Does it get easier? The adjustment, I mean.”

“Not right away. Then again it was easier for me because I wasn't out for that long. But...you know we're here to help anyway we can.”

I knew, and it was assuring. For the most part.

Truth be told, it was all I could do not to ask Castiel to scrub the mindfuck from my brain, just so I could be around Sam and not feel like shit. Trying to work with him again with those images? Not a good look, and an even worse prospect knowing he didn't feel the same way.

I picked up the acoustic guitar I'd left leaning against the nightstand for weeks without so much as looking at it. After some tuning, my fingers explored and strummed until a song came to mind:

_“Cross my heart and hope to die._  
_Burn my lungs and curse my eyes._  
_I've lost control and I don't want it back._  
_I'm going numb, I've been hijacked._  
_It's a fucking drag…”_  


The lyrics flow quietly at first, slowly leaving my lips. The words cut into my chest sharp and fresh as new razor blades, but it felt necessary, cathartic, to just let it bleed out. So I kept going, making my voice stronger:

_“It's better to burn than to fade away._  
_It's better to leave than to be replaced._  
_I'm losing to you, baby, I'm no match._  
_I'm going numb, I've been hijacked._  
_It's a fucking drag..._  
_I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you,_  
_so I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do._  
_Yeah, you're worse than nicotine!_  
_Yeah, you're worse than nicotine!_  
_Yeah...”_

* * *

_“Just one more hit and then we're through_  
_'cause you could never love me back._  
_Cut every tie I have to you_  
_'cause your love's a fucking drag..._  
_but I need it so bad._  
_Your love's a fucking drag,_  
_but I need it so bad…”_  


Sam listened outside of Ariel's door. He had always liked her singing, and would sometimes sit in with her while she played. 

This was different though. She was hurting. And it was his fault. If he hadn't left her alone to check on Dean, the djinn wouldn't have taken her. 

Dean kept telling Sam that Ariel never blamed him for what happened. She just needed time to clear her head and get back to something resembling normal, he said. Sam respected that...but then wondered if there was another reason for her silence, why she hadn't asked for him. If it had something to do with what went on while under the djinn’s thrall. He knew that Dean would know, but he also knew it wasn't Dean's story to tell.

He wanted to go to Ariel, God only knew how much. He needed his friend back. He needed to comfort and take care of her, as he had before. She'd done the same for him after a shtriga hunt went south a few months ago and left him in a bad headspace. He never forgot that. It was that moment that drew them closer together. 

So lost was Sam in his thoughts, it didn't even register that Ariel had opened the door, stunned to see him there.

“Sam? What's up?” She looked better than how they found her, but her eyes held a haunted look. Sam swallowed a hard lump in his throat.

“Hey... I, um... I was just passing by and...I stopped when I heard you playing your guitar.” He looked at his feet. “It sounded good. I, I kinda missed it.” 

A soft _oh_ left her lips, followed by, “Well... Thanks.” 

Sam stammered, “I didn't mean to disturb you or anything, I just wanted to, um-”

“Sam, no, you're fine. Really, I was just stretching my legs. Seeing the same four walls was kinda getting to me.” 

A glimmer of hope formed an idea in Sam's head. “Ah, well...Dean and Cas went to help the Banes twins with a hunt in Minnesota. And I wonder if maybe you wanted to get out for a while. Get some dinner, some fresh air.”

The look on Ariel's face appeared briefly as a deer-in-headlights look, but it passed just as quickly. Sam felt the coil in his stomach loosen just a little when she looked at him and slowly replied, “Sure, OK. Let me make myself look human first and I'll meet you in the library.”

 _Whatever she needs_ , Sam promised himself.

* * *

Well. This was unexpected.

One moment I was singing out my lamentations, and the next I'm in a rather nice black ‘57 T-Bird from the bunker garage, eating burgers and fries with the very object of both my affection and my angst. At an empty overlook point under a clear starry sky. 

Sometimes the universe really knows when to pour lemon juice on a wound.

We made small talk off and on so far. A couple awkward laughs later, it got a little easier. He had been nothing if not careful and a gentleman, not wanting to overwhelm me. I recognized that, and I appreciated it. I appreciated him. 

I realized how much I missed having my friend around these last couple of weeks. None of this was his fault and, even though it was for my own purposes, I couldn't help but feel like I had punished him too. Sam mattered too much to be kept in the dark like that. He deserved to know.

Trying to calm myself before I lost my nerve, I looked up at the stars before I spoke up. “Thanks, Sam.”

“For what?”

“Just...this. And for being there when it mattered.” I took a swallow of beer, and continued, “I wasn't trying to push you away, Sam. It was just... what I saw. What I _felt_. It was too much to handle at once, you know? I was frustrated and disappointed, and so pissed at myself for not seeing the signs before.”

“Signs?” He sounded concerned, but I kept my gaze fixed on Orion's belt and pushed ahead.

“Yeah. See, the djinn was attracted to a...a _longing_ that I had. It was so strong that it was enough to keep me on the menu long past average expiration.”

“And... what was the longing for?” The uncertainty in his voice wasn't judgmental or derisive, but curious.

“Something I couldn't have, in a world that wasn't meant for me.”

“Ari-”

“Please, Sam. Just let me get this out,” I pleaded softly. He was still, and from the corner of my eye I saw him nod in understanding, encouraging me to continue. “It was...hard because the signs were there, right in my face, and I didn't even stop to question it. I had a steady job, an apartment, a different life - hell, a different _name_ \- and a brilliant, gorgeous neighbor who saw me as I was in a very exposed moment, and bared himself as well. We were crazy about each other, all cuddles and kisses and meeting the family, the whole nine... and it was enough. It was perfect.

“Then Dean shows up, tells me I'm actually under a spell, and that I'm dying... and when I stopped to think about it all, it hurt like hell. It hurt so much knowing how long it took to see what I should have all along.”

He waited a beat before he asked, “What was it?”

“That none of it was real. That it wasn't my life. But most of all...that there's no way in Hell that you could be happy with someone like me.”

I didn't move. I sat and waited for the sadness to pass, or for Sam to start the car and drive us back to the bunker, whichever came first.

Neither of those came. But the touch of warm fingers wiping away the heated tears on my cheeks did, and threatened to break the dam altogether.

“I know your thoughts on the subject, and...and I know it's not what you want. I'm a liability, I can't always be guaranteed safety. I get that, and I respect it. I just don't want you thinking that I have some secret grudge against you. I'm OK just being friends. I'd rather be in your corner as an ally than not at all.” A shaky breath. “Just wanted you to know that.”

Without hesitation, Sam pulled me across the seat into his arms, holding me tight as I cried unabated for the first time in weeks.

“Ariel,” Sam began, with a bit of strain in his voice, “You don't owe anyone an apology. If anyone owes anyone, it’s me. I'm sorry for not being there when you needed protecting. That's on me. You're not a liability. You're a part of our circle and we'd be lost without the work you've done. And...and it's not like I never thought about…”

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Having some, uh, trouble... you know, breathing…” 

He eased up on his overly tight embrace. I swear, he doesn't know his own strength, and I told him as much, emotional wreck that I was. At least I could still make him laugh.

As I took napkins to quickly clean up my face (and the wet spot on his jacket), I barrelled ahead to the conclusion. “I’m not looking for a response right now, Sam. I don’t...I don’t want you to feel like you’re in any way obligated to me. What we have, our friendship? It’s enough for me just because it’s you. There’s nothing to forgive, nothing to agonize over, just...just tell me that, no matter what, we’ll be okay.” 

I wish I hadn’t chose that moment to look him in the eyes. 

There it was.

> _His eyes, those beautiful deep auroras, held so much in them. . . .there was so much reverence, so much devotion. Like he would do anything for me._

The palm of his hand pressed warm against my cheek, his thumb stroking away a stray tear from my eye. In my chest I could feel those sharp cuts sting just a moment, but slowly begin to heal one by one. 

All from a look. Damn.

“We’re always okay, Ariel.”

And I believed him. Because this Sam - _my Sam_ \- was real. 

And I believed that, soon, I really would be okay.


End file.
